A Life for Kregen

Chapter Ten

“By Vox! I do not know. I’ve no idea at all.”

“Us and Sogandar the Upright,” said Nath at Barty’s wail of despair. We stood in that book-lined room glaring in baffled fury at the map of Vallia. The colors mocked us. No scouts reported an invading army, we had had not a whisper from our spies in the occupied territories. We knew nothing. And yet, I was convinced, there had to be the real invasion force from which that ludicrous gaggle of men masquerading as an army under command of Fat Lango had been intended to decoy us away.

“Where among all the Ice Floes are they?” said Barty.

He stood with his hands on his hips and his head thrown back and he looked as though he’d just tried to eat a five-fathom eel lengthways.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Nath slapped his rapier up and down in the scabbard, fretfully. “And we’re doing that right now. Scouts, spies, aerial observation. What else can we do?”

“Wait,” I said.

“Aye, majister. Wait. And the men grow lean and hungry although we fill their bellies six times a day.”

“The fight will come. We must ensure we fight it where we choose.”

Most of my joy at rejoining the force and then of marching back to Vondium had evaporated when I discovered that Delia had taken herself off again about important and secret business of the Sisters of the Rose. Always I felt irritable and half-lost when she was away. This is natural, if foolish, behavior and I do not choose either to defend or curse at it. It just is.

The arrow that had winged past me in that short sharp fight had sliced a chunk out from under Jilian’s breast and I’d had a fair old game with her at the end, just before we joined up with the rest of the retreating force. She’d fought her two masichieri well. But she’d become a little delirious and I’d had to strap her down to the hirvel. It was a most undignified young lady who was decanted in Vondium and hustled off by the ladies to their own wing where the doctors could attend more effectively than I had done. Had Seg’s wife Thelda been here the to-do would have been much greater, of course. The trouble was — this meant I could not question Jilian about her steel claw, which was a twin to that worn by Dayra.

Jilian had kept the clawed glove strapped to her hand and wrist after the fight. That had caused some of the bother, for she’d taken it into her head to slash at anyone who came near. Well, that was all over and she was safely asleep festooned with acupuncture needles. When she awoke, poulticed, bandaged, dosed and medicated, she’d be herself again.

So we pondered the dark designs of those who sought to topple Vallia, and, besides wondering where they would strike, wondered who in a Herrelldrin Hell they were.

One thing I could do, and that was make sure the army was up to scratch. We were forming regiments at a fair pace, of course; but it takes time to turn a man into a soldier. I offer no excuses for this conduct in a land where always before in living memory gold had been used instead of warriors. Now we must free ourselves by our own efforts. The response of the Vallians was immediate and generous and we had no difficulty in filling the muster lists of any regiment on the day they were opened. Cavalry, infantry, artillery, we formed fresh bodies and trained them. For air — well, I had found myself one of the wise men of Vallia, who are not to be confused with sorcerers although often termed wizards, and he was busily producing the substances necessary to fill the silver vaol-paol boxes that lift and power fliers. We would build ourselves a fleet of sailing fliers, able to lift into the air but dependent on the breeze for sailing. At the least, they would give us some support, and at the best would help us rout the enemy. In the great waters of Kregen there are perhaps only the devil Shanks from over the curve of the world who can teach Vallians much about sailing ships. From the fleets of great Vallian galleons would come eager volunteers to sail the ships of the sky.

The map of Vallia, as well as remaining blank as to the intentions of our foes, showed not a single mention of any place called Lancival. I had not commented to Jilian that I did not know it. And she, the minx, had known all along that I could not. No smot, den or village, no province or estate that I could find was called Lancival, and none of the men I questioned had heard of the place, no, by Vox, never!

The Lady Winfree, a charming girl and married to a Chuktar newly appointed to command a brigade, looked right through me when I mentioned the name to her. She excused herself rapidly and made off, her skirts swaying, her head high. So that was that. Lancival was another of these damned secrets the women held so close to them. Well, they were entitled to secrets, of course, that went without a say-so. And, equally of course, there are secrets wives hold that they are not entitled to, just as their husbands hold remembered guilt. I felt the thankfulness in me I had told Delia of Earth, that weird little planet with one tiny yellow sun, one small silver moon and not a diff in sight.

I went to see Jilian in her yellow-sheeted bed with the flowers banked around the suns-filled room. She lay white and lovely and completely unconscious of anyone or anything save what paraded before her in dreams. I sighed.

The doctor said: “Give her another two days, majister.”

Long before I left the ladies’ quarters, which had been among the first of the palace ruins to be rebuilt, Barty met me bubbling with an enthusiasm and a joyful eagerness I found despite my mood to be wonderfully infectious.

The first thought was that one of the invading armies had been discovered. But Barty called out: “Dayra!” He waved his arms, his face almost bursting, and fell in beside me to trot along babbling out the news. “She has been seen. It must be her, definitely — the spy was well paid. She rode into Werven with a rascally gang buying supplies. I am sure, Dray, there can be no doubt.”

“Werven. That is in Falinur, Seg’s kovnate.”

“Wherever it is, Dray — I must be off. This is the chance we have been waiting for.”

He was right. And the devils of temptation leered and beckoned to me. My daughter, my elfin wayward daughter who wore a steel-taloned claw and slashed men to pieces, Ros the Claw — how could I not rush instantly to find her and how could I not stay in Vondium in her time of trial? What to do?

Barty must have sensed that indecision in me, for he was becoming more and more attuned to the delicacies of personal relationships these days. He cocked an eye at me, and stopped speaking, and for a dozen strides we marched side by side out of the women’s quarters. In silence we continued through the Mother of Pearl Court, under the colonnades where purple-flowered ibithses glowed against the limewash, and so over tessellated paving into the cool blue shade of the Goldfish Court where the tanks rippled ghostly flickers of orange-gold like sparks against the milky silver.

“You must go, Barty.” I spoke heavily. “And my heart goes with you. But for me, I must stay here.”

He understood.

There was no way of telling if he was pleased or sorry I would not be with him, for we had gone through a few hairy moments together, and to do him credit he expressed immediate understanding and determination to talk to Dayra. He was aware of problems. He did not know Dayra was Ros the Claw. I felt it right that he should know before he went, and found little sense in my withholding the information previously.

“By Vox!” he said. “You mean — like that ghastly steel claw your friend Jilian was wearing?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “What a girl. I’ve romped with her when we were very young — before I knew you, Dray. I think she must be very — grown up — now.”

“Yes.” I spoke dryly, and my throat choked up. “Very.”

Barty had owned a number of airboats and all the survivors of the troubles had been placed at the disposal of the Vondium Defense Forces, as was proper. The Lord Farris was reluctant to release a single unit from the small forces we had; but he understood from what I did not say and from my demeanor that the need was pressing. Barty was fully supplied with all that a man needs to survive on Kregen and with a party of his own men was sent off in fine style. He called down the Remberees, which were answered with bellows of well wishers, and the flier fleeted up and away into the radiance of the Suns of Scorpio. A fine, headstrong, courageous young man, Barty Vessler, the Strom of Calimbrev. But, all the same, the thought occurred to me and I could not halt it, that it ought to be me who flew off with such high hopes. And, come to think of it, where the hell was Delia?

The next few days passed most miserably.

There were, at the least, no more ghostly visitations from that infernal Wizard of Loh, spying on us in lupu; but even that would have been a welcome interruption. As it was, and despite the people around me who worked hard and with a will, I felt alone, isolated, cut off from all the things that seemed of worth. So when Nath, who as the commander of the Phalanx was now called a Kapt, a general, wanted me to inspect the new bodies he had formed, I was glad to go.

Now, as you know, a Phalanx consists of two Kerchuris, the two wings, each of five thousand one hundred eighty-four pikemen, the brumbytes. Flanking them are the Hakkodin, the axemen and halberdiers, eight hundred sixty-four strong. Because we now had access to adequate supplies of iron, and Vondium’s forges produced first quality carbon-steel, we had incorporated bodies of men equipped with the big two-handed sword. With these fearful weapons they could knock a jutman from his saddle with a single blow, if they did not slice him in half.

In addition, and because of the promised threat from the air, the Phalanx had attached strong forces of archers. These were not, alas, the famed and feared Bowmen of Loh armed with the superb Lohvian longbow. They used the compound reflex bow, powerful, accurate, flat in the loose, and they had been drilled and trained until shooting oozed from their ears. They had been given particular attention. The Vallians were now aware of the danger from the skies.

As for artillery, wheeled varters, the Kregan ballistae, were manufactured and artillerymen drilled and practiced with a keen desire to make their battery the best in the army. The superior Vallian gros-varters, too, were produced. There just was not time to have the wise men go into the problems of design and manufacture of the repeating-varters I had set my heart on. They would have to come later — if Vallia survived.

The two Kerchurivaxes came up to report, massive and brilliant in armor and a profusion of ornamentation. I never stinted on the amount of decoration a fighting man cared to wear, provided always that nothing was allowed to interfere with his efficiency. The long period of waiting was trying, but as the two Kerchuri commanders saluted and I looked beyond them, with a welcoming word, to the massed blocks of the Phalanx, I saw with a lift of elation that the men showed not a sign of boredom or slothfulness. Of course, Nath kept them up to the mark. But, all the same, idleness breeds slackness. We would have to take a little stroll in the suns shine of Antares and give the brumbytes and the Hakkodin a modicum of exercise.

Each Kerchuri contains six Jodhris, and the twelve Jodhrivaxes were wheeled up smartly to me to be received with a Vallian handshake after the formal salute. They were all tough-looking men, sweating a little in their armor; but big, bold, bulky, fit men to stand in rank and file and handle the long deadly pike. Pikemen need bulk as well as muscle. The Hakkodin, as I received their commanders, were lither; but still big men, still men who could swing a halberd and take the legs from under a charging totrix or benhoff.

The archer force attached to this Phalanx was under the command of Log Logashtorio. He was a Bowman of Loh, from Erthyrdrin, Seg’s homeland, and he did not know whether to laugh at the antics of his men with the smaller bow or to be proud of their achievements. He was an old professional, a man I had known for some time and who had remained loyal throughout the Time of the Troubles. I had promoted him to the command with the rank of Chodkuvax. A few words quickly revealed his delight in his command and the work involved and his whole-hearted support of his bowmen, despite that they were not Bowmen of Loh and did not pull the fabled Lohvian longbow. I shook hands and said, “Now if Seg Segutorio were here, Chodkuvax Logashtorio…”

And his seamed face split into a massive smile and he beamed and said: “By the Veiled Froyvil, majister!

Seg would say never a word of praise; but he would see, he would see!”

And, as you will readily perceive, Log Logashtorio was anxious that Seg should know of his good fortune in gaining a command himself. So with the shouted words of command and the long blam-blam-berram rataplan of the massed drums, the Third Phalanx marched past. Everywhere I went where men spoke to me the “Majister’s” flew thicker than swallows in spring. I had grown partly used to it, as the Prince Majister; but now, every now and then, I’d be pulled up sharply as I was addressed as emperor. That was a job I’d not sought, and meant to do and have done with, and shuffle it off onto my splendid son Drak.

This Third Phalanx presented a fine stirring sight. But, as Nath said: “They have not been blooded yet, majister.”

“Come the day, Nath, and they’ll do as well as we did with the old Phalanx of Therminsax.”

“They will, by a Brumbyte’s Elbow! They will!”

The next day it was the turn of the churgur infantry, long flexible lines of sword and shield men, splendid in their crimson and yellow. By example and exhortation we were gradually dinning into their heads that shields were not cowards’ weapons, and the success of the Phalanx at the Battle of Voxyri had done much to impress all. These men were organized into regiments under a Jiktar, four hundred eighty strong, although some were still short while others contained as many as six hundred in their ranks. This situation I tolerated; time would straighten all that out. And every minute of every live-long day was spent in training these men and drilling them and turning highly individual citizenry who were habituated to working together when profits were involved into that fierce, demoniac, cutting machine of an army that would be vital to our survival.

Also, at this time, members of the Order of Kroveres of Iztar began to trickle in from wild adventurings around the country. I welcomed them with the utmost warmth, for these were the men with whom I sought to change the ways of a world. I shall have much more to say of the KRVI later; but suffice it for now to say that they formed a powerful if small band of devoted comrades, beautifully complementing that choice band who had followed me in the Times of Troubles. And, from time to time, when a man proved himself, fresh candidates were taken in and, slowly, the strength of the KRVI grew. The Grand Archbold of the Kroveres of Iztar did not put in an appearance in Vondium which saddened me mightily.

So, events were happening thick and fast every day; but the events I hungered for did not happen. Delia did not return. Dayra and Barty did not return. The damned ghost invasion remained invisible. And my friends did not show their faces in Vondium, as I would have wished. As for the rest of my family -

enough for them that I wished them well and, indeed, messages had been sent to Zeg, the King of Zandikar.

Jaidur, of course, was prancing around running errands for the women. The sailing fliers were built with the utmost urgency and the yards turned them out by the handful. Mere clumsy wooden boxes, they seemed, square-ended, blunt, and yet purposeful, designed to do a job and adequate for the demands that would be placed upon them. The silver boxes were readied and installed. The masts were raised and all the complicated rigging of the sealanes was dispensed with; we rigged them, with foremast, main and mizzen, courses, topsails and royals only with spinnaker and jib. I had decided it was scarcely worth the complications to rig masts extending from the sides at right angles, as we had done in the past. With these sailing boxes stuffed with varters and catapults and gros-varters, aswarm with aerial sailors and fighting men, I fancied we would give another nasty shock to the invading armies, as we had trounced the army of Hamal at the Battle of Jholaix. The silver boxes lifted the skyships only. The lines of force — ethero-magnetic force, old San Evold sometimes called them — which crisscrossed the world, were gripped onto and held by the power of the silver boxes, as though a keel was extended. By this means the skyships could tack against the wind, unlike free-flight balloons which are helpless in a breeze.

I went to see Jilian on the day of the departure of part of the army in a fleet of skyships. It was an evolution only, to see how quickly we could transport and disembark a Phalanx into battle. The ships were not all the same, naturally, being the work of individuals; but they were of a size. There were the smaller vessels, sloops of the sky, and the medium sized frigates of the air. And there were the mammoths. These were four and five decks high, with towering superstructures studded with varter ports. Flung together, they were cross-beamed and buttressed, their knees sturdy, their scarphs rudimentary and reinforced with bronze, their planking coarse and heavy. Without the need to combat the hogging and sagging motion to which a ship is subjected in the sea, without the need for fine lines, they could be built cheaply and efficiently as hulking great boxes stuffed with fighting potential. Each of the larger ships could carry a Jodhri from the Phalanx or two regiments of churgur infantry or a regiment of cavalry. I needed to know how swiftly the whole force could be brought into a concentration, landing and disembarking and the troops forming. This kind of exercise was vital to our planning. We took that Third Phalanx that had looked so fine on parade, two brigades of churgurs, and four regiments of cavalry, two of zorcas, and one each of totrixes and nikvoves.

At the last minute, by design to test the men, I added the Fourth and Sixth Regiments of Totrixes. That, at the least, gave a more equable balance as between infantry and cavalry. With the bedlam going on as the two regiments frantically loaded themselves into their ships, I went to see Jilian. She looked up from the yellow pillows and she did not smile.

“So, Jak the Drang, Jikai — you are the Emperor of Vallia.”

“You are feeling better? The wound has healed?”

Her claw was removed; but the end of the balass box stuck out from under the bed. The scent of roses overpowered in the room. The quietness fell soothingly after the uproar outside.

“Yes. You bound up my wound — and the doctor says you sucked out the poison.”

“Yes.”

Her hand moved under the yellow sheet, across her breast, and was still. Still she did not smile.

“And — the emperor?”

“What difference does that make?”

“To you — or to me?”

‘To either of us.”

“Nothing.” And then she smiled. “No difference at all.”

“When you are fully recovered I want to talk to you about Lancival, and other things.” I licked my lips.

“About a girl called Ros the Claw-”

She half sat up. Her dark hair shimmered in the light.

“Ros? How do you know her?”

I felt the leap in me. I kept my face composed. “I have met her.”

“Well, steer clear of her. She has a leem temper.” Jilian lay back, and I could see she was still very weak. “It is something to do with her father. A right cramph, by her account. But she is good with the-”

Here Jilian halted herself again, and then said, “With her claw.” And so I knew she had nearly told me the secret name these women called that vicious weapon.

“The people here will look after you well. Get strong again. The poison weakened you-”

She saw the way I was clad, the harness, the colors, the weaponry. “You march out to war?”

“No. An exercise only.”

She laughed. It was a small, pale laugh; but it reminded me of the way she threw her head back and laughed, fine and full and free, as we rode across the grasslands.

“You look as grim as though you ride out to confront the legions of Hodan-Set.”